Six
by TheJustAHint
Summary: Hermione is working as a Healer at St Mungo's, a simple and enjoyable career with few surprises. That is, until a new patient arrives. A child with familiar white-blond hair and pointed features. A six year old that shouldn't be a six year old at all. Post-Hogwarts. EWE.
1. St Mungo's

Hello all! This isn't my first fanfiction but it is the first I've posted. Please read and review. Constructive criticism is my best friend. I'm not sure how frequently I will be updating but it shouldn't be a very long story or very hard to continue. Stay tuned and thank you!

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Hermione awoke with a start to the sound of her far too loud alarm clock. She quickly but lazily turned it off with one hand while unsuccessfully rubbing sleep from her eyes with the other. Turning on her side, she looked out of the window to the private cul-de-sac that she lived on. It was still quite dark at seven in the morning, but the day seemed promising. With a yawn, she lifted herself out of her bed, not realizing the book on her covers until it fell onto the floor with a dull thud. Hermione picked up the book, figuring that she had fallen asleep reading again, and placed it on her bedside table face up. _East of Eden_, it read on the cover, by John Steinbeck. As much as she hated to admit it- which she never had- the blatantly misogynistic author had a talent for writing and although some of his work was long and dry, East of Eden had, for a long time, been a favorite of hers.

Starting the day off with a cool shower always woke Hermione up more efficiently than coffee, but she never went a day without both. After dressing into her work robes and pulling her unruly hair into a lazy up-do, Hermione grabbed her travel mug and a breakfast bar and apparated from her living room to the apparition point a couple of blocks from St Mungo's.

Following the éclat of the war, Hermione was offered multiple positions at the Ministry. After her emotionally and physically draining experience in the war, many expected her to take any of the low-key jobs in a heartbeat. But for Hermione, sitting behind a desk for eight hours each day did not appeal to her more adventurous nature. Even being the avant-garde for elf rights didn't sway her to accepting the position as head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And a job as an Auror was out of the question too- her reserved side wasn't on board for any more physically draining situations. Instead, Hermione applied for a job at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Thrilled that a war hero wanted to work there rather than at the Ministry, the hospital almost immediately hired her, even without previous medical experience. Despite her lack of knowledge, Hermione made an excellent addition, bringing new élan to the hospital, and after just a year of Healer classes she became a licensed Healer and one of the best employees at the hospital. After her second year of working at the hospital, Hermione was promoted to Head Healer of her department, Spell Damage. Three years and many patients later, she was more in love with her job than ever.

Hermione walked into the hospital with a flash of her ID- mandatory for all Healers- and a quick hello to the woman at the front desk. She took the lift to the fourth floor where she worked and entered her office, setting her belongings on her desk. She then went to make her rounds of the floor, making sure everything was in order and her patients were comfortable. Being the head of the Spell Damages department, Hermione worked with many people who had their memories erased by charms gone wrong, or people who went insane due to torture done to them during the reign of Voldemort. People such as Gilderoy Lockhart, her second year Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, and Frank and Alice Longbottom, Neville Longbottom's parents, were a few of her primary patients. Hermione liked working with the Longbottom's and even Lockhart was enjoyable to work with some days. His confusion was a source of humor to Hermione and many of her coworkers. Hermione didn't find much comedy in her job, but Lockhart had bilked so many people of their money and some others of their memories that she couldn't help but think that he had had it coming.

Hermione worked throughout the afternoon without any mishaps. Her patients were doing as well as expected and she didn't have any other responsibilities to attend to. In the quiet of her office, Hermione finished all of her desk work, only breaking for lunch and her second rounds of the floor. Although being confined behind a desk was the one reason she didn't take a job at the Ministry, she didn't mind it at St Mungo's. She didn't have many uneventful days, so she appreciated it when she got one and took advantage of the calm environment. Filing the last paper required, Hermione grabbed her clipboard in preparation for her final round of her shift. Once again, everything was in order. After collecting her belongings from the chair in her office, Hermione rode the lift down to the lobby. She was about to say goodbye to the desk attendant when a bevy of people rushed into the hospital, causing much ado and almost running her over. Amongst the group, she recognized a few Aurors including her close friend Harry Potter.

"Hermione! Thank god!" Harry careened towards her, not bothering to fix his askew glasses.

"Harry? Are you okay? What's going on?" Hermione asked, addled. Looking past her friend, she saw a few Aurors talking frantically with a Healer, who nodded calmly at what they were saying and quickly led them to the elevator. It seemed as though one of the Aurors was holding a child, only a shock of familiar white-blond hair poking over the man's shoulder as he walked away. She looked worriedly back at Harry, whose expression reflected hers.

"I'm fine, but there was an accident. I'm not sure what happened exactly. I've never seen anything like it before! One minute he was there and the next he wasn't. Well, he was- but not in the same way…" Harry rambled, looking everywhere but at Hermione.

"Harry- whoa! Harry, slow down. Tell me what happened- calmly!" Hermione urged. But before Harry could begin, the same Healer who led the Aurors upstairs was at Harry's side.

"Healer Granger… you'll want to come check this out."

Back on the fourth floor, Hermione was lead into a room that was unoccupied merely ten minutes before. A group of Aurors all stood around the bed looking as worried as Harry. As she walked closer to the bed, a sense of despair grew in her stomach. It was only until she was at the foot of the bed that she saw who occupied it. A boy, about the age of six, lay in the bed. Dirt covered his small face and although his features were much rounder than she remembered, his nose was still straight and his jaw still narrow and pointed. His hair was still the same white-blond and he was as pale as ever. Around his neck was a large amulet with a snake wrapped around a green stone. It looked gauche on such a small boy, and it should have told her who she was really seeing in front of her, but it was only when his eyes fluttered open and bright silver spheres looked confusedly up at her that she was sure. Her composure melted and a small gasp escaped her lips, her clipboard falling from her limp arms with a clatter. She barely heard Harry when he spoke.

"We were on an Auror mission when he was hit with a spell. We don't know what the spell was supposed to do, but Draco Malfoy is now a toddler."


	2. Questions and Suggestions

Phew! I didn't think I would be able to get this up tonight. I'm trying this thing where I update weekly, but wow. The pressure is real. With that said, I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Trust me, Draco will make his real debut next chapter so bear with me!

To everyone who read, reviewed, favorited or followed this story, thank you so much! A thousand times thank you! It's wonderful getting this kind of response from real people. You guys rock!

Before we begin, I should mention that I do not own Harry Potter and any recognizable characters or settings belong to Queen Rowling. (I've always wanted to write a disclaimer. The story feels official now.)

So without further ado, Chapter two of Toddler. Please read and review and say it with me: Constructive criticism is my best friend. Dont be afraid to tell me your opinions! This story is for you guys as much as it is for me! Thank you all and enjoy...

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Hermione stared blankly ahead at the small boy lying in front of her. She heard someone, Harry she supposed, talking at her side but no comprehensible words formed in her brain. She knew what had happened even though she had never heard of or seen such a case, but her mind seemed to be made of mush and a year's worth of rigorous Healer training seemed to disappear in an instant. Someone, Harry again she thought, called her name and she flinched, coming out of her stupor. Hermione looked confusedly at him, mimicking the six year old who lay only a few feet away. She blinked a couple of times before opening her mouth.

"Huh… what?" Her mind had not quite come back yet.

"Healer Granger," a Healer spoke up, making her way to Hermione's side. "Why don't you take a moment in your office? I will speak to Mr. Potter and the other Aurors about the incident."

"Right…. Okay," she mumbled. With a single glance around the space, lingering only for a second on the toddler, Hermione left the crowded room and headed for her office. Once inside, she slumped into a chair and put her head in her hands. How could this have happened? Never had she read anything about a spell that could change a full grown man into a toddler! And not just any toddler either. She suspected that if that truly was Malfoy- which it couldn't, it just couldn't- he looked exactly like he had when he was a child. But how? And, more perplexingly, why?

It could have been a mistake, Hermione thought, but she didn't think so. A spell that powerful had to have been on purpose. What kind of mission were the Aurors on anyway? Who was involved, and what were they playing at?

A million questions seemed to be running through her head, and a million theories to follow, each one as unlikely as the next. However, one thing kept making its way to the front of her mind. Would Malfoy remember anything from tonight or, for that matter, anything past his sixth year of life?

That was it. She had to get out of her office and figure this out for herself. Hermione stood abruptly and stormed out of the room to seek out her coworker and the Aurors. Just down the hallway she found the group in the Consultation Room recalling the events of the night. She entered the room, causing the attention to shift to her and Harry stood from his chair. He swiftly approached her, worry evident in his eyes.

"Hermione are you alright? You kinda scared me a bit back there," he said quietly, laughing nervously.

"Yes, I'm fine," Hermione responded, dismissing the concern with a wave of her hand. "Now I want you all to tell me exactly what happened tonight. I want to know everything so that we can sort this out quickly."

"Well we just finished telling Healer Reynolds about it," Harry rushed over to the Healer's desk and picked up her notepad, looking desperately at Hermione. "She took notes."

"Thank you, Healer Reynolds. I would just like to hear everything for myself. If you wouldn't mind checking up on Ma- the boy?" She couldn't let herself believe it was him. Not yet.

"Of course, Healer Granger," the Healer replied, exiting the room with a polite smile to the group of Aurors.

"Alright, let's get started," Hermione began, eliciting a few groans from the group before her. "Tell me everything. What mission were you working on?"

"Well," a rather tall Auror in the back spoke first. "We were huntin' down some guys who were messin' aroun' wif some bad stuff. Blokes buyin' an' sellin' dark artifacts. Nuffin' good I say."

"Nothing good we all say," another Auror interrupted, looking annoyed. "A group of guys, seven or eight of them, have been causing some trouble," Hermione quickly scribbled some detailed notes as the Auror spoke. "Been buying jewelry, statues- you name it- down in Knockturn Alley and a few places elsewhere. Selling them to both wizards and muggles alike. We finally managed to follow them to their hideout- some old building on a run-down street."

"We managed to follow them, but not remain unseen," Harry clarified. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes for a moment before elaborating. "There were only ten of us on the field, Malfoy included. They must have heard us or seen us or- I don't know. But they attacked us and we fought back. Then before we knew it, there were only nine of us- and a child."

Hermione wrote down a few more notes before lying back in her chair. She placed an elbow on the arm and massaged her forehead. This was all too bizarre.

"After we realized what had happened, some of us came here with Malfoy and the others went back to the Ministry to put in a report. The swindlers kind of got away when we noticed there was a six year old lying in the middle of the fight." At Harry's last statement, each Auror looked away from one another guiltily. Hermione rolled her eyes at their embarrassment and urged the conversation forward.

"So did any of you actually _see_ Malfoy get hit with the spell?" she asked with an eyebrow raised. In the chair next to Harry's, an older Auror raised her hand, suddenly excited.

"Oh, I did Miss Granger. It was a strange sight indeed." Hermione sat up again, grabbing her quill and notepad, and nodded at the Auror for her to explain.

"Well," the woman started, "He was a man, your age. Then, a blue light hit him and he started shrinking. His skin sorta bubbled as it would if he had taken Polyjuice. When he was little, he just fell. Seemed asleep."

Hermione stared at the woman, half listening, half dazed with bewilderment. When the Auror finished, Hermione suddenly came to, shaking her head to clear it and jotted down more notes.

"Thank you," Hermione said, somewhat forcing a smile. "I think that will be all. I'll stay in touch with the Auror office and let you all know of any progress regarding Mr. Malfoy's case."

The Aurors nodded at Hermione and began to file out of the room. Hermione let out a sigh and lay back in her chair. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Harry linger by the door. He seemed conflicted, not sure whether he should remain and discuss something with Hermione or leave. He must have decided against the latter because he walked back into the room and sat in the chair he had occupied minutes before. Hermione looked up at him, raising her eyebrows as if to say _Well? …What?_ Harry met her stare with a nervous glance, unable to speak as though he thought that his next words could end his life. Which they could have.

"Malfoy can't stay here," he blurted suddenly. Hermione looked at him curiously, not understanding what he meant.

"What do you mean 'Malfoy can't stay here'?" Hermione questioned, eyeing Harry suspiciously. "It's a perfectly safe facility." Harry gulped audibly.

"Well- I just mean that- uh, well- I know it's safe here, but- don't you think that, uhm—"

"Harry, just say it!" Hermione interrupted his stammering. Harry breathed deeply before speaking very quickly.

"MalfoyisonlysixyearsoldandIdon'tthinkyouguyshaveacureforthisyetandIdon'tthinkit'dbeagoodideaforhimtostayherealonewithnothingtodoImeanhismotherisoutofthecountrysohehasnofamilytotakecareofhimuntilhe'scuredsomaybeyoushouldtakecareofhimandnotjustduringworkhoursbuttakehimhomeandlivewithhimforalittlewhile?"

Hermione's mouth fell open as she absorbed what Harry had just suggested. Malfoy? Live with her?

"Do you understand what you are suggesting to me?" Hermione asked, her tone scathing.

"Yes, I think I do," Harry replied more confidently. "I know he's Malfoy, but he's only _six years old_! He doesn't have his mother or father or anyone. St. Mungo's is a great place, don't get me wrong, Hermione, but it's no place for a little kid."

Hermione contemplated Harry's words carefully. He had a point: children and hospitals didn't mix, and it couldn't really be dangerous for him to live outside the hospital while the cure was found, could it?

"And if that doesn't convince you," Harry continued with a smirk, "imagine all of the things you could use against Malfoy when he's cured. I'm sure he's a total sweetheart at six!"

She couldn't help but smile at the notion. Draco Malfoy, a sweetheart! If she did this, he would never live down all of the cute things he said or did. Harry laughed at Hermione's amused face, and she joined in soon after. Living with toddler Malfoy could be interesting, and finding a cure couldn't possibly take much time at all. Just a little research and a few Floo calls, and Malfoy would be back to his older and more arrogant self.

"Okay, Harry. I'll try to get in contact with Mrs. Malfoy and then I'll talk with Malfoy about this arrangement. It's up to him though. The last thing I need is a small, belligerent Malfoy causing me trouble at all hours." Hermione smiled at Harry's pleased expression. Then, with a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, Harry left to sort out his Auror duties.

Once again, Hermione relaxed in the chair. She read through the notes that she had written while the Aurors explained the events of earlier that day, but her mind kept drifting to scenarios and scenes of a young, blond boy living with her in her home. A few times she almost managed to convince herself that the idea was ridiculous and to call Harry telling him that she had changed her mind, but she didn't. It could be interesting. Hermione wondered if six year old Malfoy was anything like adult Malfoy. Was he always rude and egotistical, even as a kid? She doubted it, but vowed to find out for certain.

Healer Reynolds returned to the Consultation Room, informing Hermione that Malfoy was doing well and was sleeping. Hermione thanked her coworker and dismissed her. She looked at the clock. It was still quite early- almost eight- and she debated going home for the evening. She then thought about the work ahead of her and decided against it. Instead, she began some paperwork. Hermione wrote out a list of texts she would refer to and another list of contacts she would have to get in touch with. It was going to be a long night, and she began immediately.


	3. Draco

Well, well, well, what do we have here? Another chapter? It's about time!

Sorry about the delay guys. School is coming to a dragged out close and the tests and projects get piled on for last minute grades. School is officially out the 17th so things will be getting back on track after then. Fair warning: next chapter may be a tad late, too. Bear with me!

Now some of you may be asking yourselves, "Whats with the new title and description?" Well it has come to my attention that six year olds are not toddlers, and although most of you don't seem too bothered by it, I want my story to be as accurate as possible. So the title is different, but the story is the same, don't fret!

Once again, thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, favorited and followed this story! You guys are great :)

And again: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did... eh, I'd probably still be here, but the disclaimer would be different.

Get ready to meet six year old Draco. Please read, review and, most importantly, enjoy!

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It was at nine thirty-seven when Hermione finally woke up the next morning with a startled jolt and frantic glances around the room. She relaxed a moment later as she remembered where she was and what she had been doing. Hermione had fallen asleep at her desk late last night, tired from paperwork and researching her peculiar case. She was also tired from trying to track down Malfoy's mother.

Narcissa Malfoy was impossible to find. She wasn't dead, but she wasn't in the country either. No one seemed to know where she was or where she could possibly be. However, Hermione had the sneaking suspicion that if he were still an adult, Malfoy would have an idea. But he wasn't, and she didn't know whether or not his six year old equivalent would have any idea about- well, anything.

In addition to Mrs. Malfoy having disappeared, Malfoy seemed to have no one else to take care of him. His father had died many years ago, shortly following the end of the war, and Andromeda was growing older and already had Teddy to care for. But what Hermione had found strange was that Malfoy didn't have any type of relationship. She had contacted Harry about whether he knew of any friends that Malfoy spent time with, but Harry couldn't recall Malfoy mentioning anyone or ever going out with any coworkers. Hermione thought that he would at least be dating someone- he did have quite a reputation at Hogwarts- but he didn't have wife or a girlfriend or even a boyfriend. There was no one.

Hermione looked down at her desk, her eyes falling on a small picture frame. In the frame was the image of Hermione, Harry and Ron from their days at Hogwarts. They were sitting in their usual Common Room chairs in Gryffindor Tower. Ron seemed to be working on an assignment, silently asking Hermione to look it over. She gave him a lighthearted push and Harry shook his head on the other side of her before they all realized the camera, laughing and smiling brightly. She smiled sadly at the photo. She always knew that she was lucky to have such good friends, even now as they slowly grew older and went about their separate lives. But the feeling of appreciation was met with a small wave of sadness for Malfoy. He had no one other than his mother who was away in some other country. No one who could provide him with the care and support that he needed right then.

Except for Hermione. At that moment Hermione made up her mind: she was going to take care of Malfoy, because he needed someone. He needed her.

* * *

It took Hermione almost an hour to convince herself to see Malfoy. Healer Reynolds had been checking up on him often at Hermione's request, but she figured that if she was the one who would be caring for him she should see him herself. She had so many questions that she needed answers for, but it was just so _weird_. The boy that had tortured her for years at Hogwarts was now a child and would be staying with her at her home. With all of the questions running through her mind, one she found herself asking over and over: how did this happen?

When she finally gathered enough nerve, Hermione left her office and made her way towards Malfoy's room. As she neared it, Healer Reynolds emerged from the room, closing the door behind her.

"Healer Granger, I'm glad you're here," she smiled with evident relief.

"Why, is something wrong?" Hermione asked, starting towards the door.

"No, no nothing is wrong," Healer Reynolds reassured Hermione. "Mr. Malfoy is just becoming a bit… restless."

Hermione sighed, partially in relief and partially in apprehension. Harry was right; a hospital is no place for a child. She could understand why Malfoy was eager to be anywhere else.

"Well I suppose he'll be glad to hear that he won't be staying here for much longer." Hermione tried to smile, but her nerves warped it into a sort of grimace. "I'll be caring for Malfoy until a cure is found."

"That is a great idea," she smiled genuinely. "Well, I should make my rounds now." Healer Reynolds nodded to Hermione. "Healer Granger."

"Thank you," Hermione said to her coworker's retreating figure. She turned to face the door, debating on whether or not she should open it. _This is your job_, she thought,_ and it's just Malfoy. You could handle him before, you can handle him now._ Hermione let out a huff of air, releasing her nerves before she opened the door.

The room was the same as every other room in the hospital: small and white with a single window that let in plenty of natural light. In the center of the room, just like in the others, was a hospital bed donned with crisp white sheets, folded in uniformly at the corners. Yet despite the endless similarities between this room and all of the others, one difference made this room far stranger than them. In this room, lying on this bed was Draco Malfoy. White-blond hair, pointed features, and cold grey eyes. But his features were more rounded, and his eyes less cold. His pale skin was tinted in a youthful pink that she had never seen on him before. He looked up at her as she slowly entered the room and when their eyes met her breathed hitched. It was, without an iota of doubt, Draco Malfoy. She couldn't deny the identity of the six year old any longer. Finally getting a good look at child confirmed what she couldn't comprehend before.

Realizing she had been in the room already for a few minutes without saying a word, she smiled at Malfoy and choked out a greeting.

"Hello Ma- Draco. I'm Healer Granger. You can call me Hermione." She smiled again, more warmly this time, encouraging him to reply. He smiled back a bit nervously, but replied anyway.

"Hello... er... Her-mi-on-e." He sounded out each syllable slowly, and then smiled brightly realizing he had pronounced her name correctly. Hermione laughed at his obvious pride.

She figured then that he had no recollection of what had happened last night or of his adult self. He had not remembered her, and he seemed to be much more lighthearted than she remembered him to be. He seemed like a six year old. However, she needed to know what he _did_ know.

"How are you feeling today, Draco?" she started. She didn't want to rush into more serious matters, especially if he truly did not remember anything.

"I'm alright," he replied, unconvincingly though as he fidgeted in the bed and frowned slightly. "Why am I here?" He looked around curiously, then back at her, waiting for an answer.

"Well, you're… sick," she finished lamely. She couldn't tell him that he's supposed to be a twenty-something year old but isn't.

Malfoy tested himself, sniffing, then coughing, then feeling his forehead with the back of his hand. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I don't feel sick," he told Hermione.

"No, I suppose you don't, but you are. Why else would you be here?" He thought for a moment, and then shrugged. That must have been a good enough reason for him.

"Well I have some good news," Hermione changed the subject. She continued when he looked at her with eager eyes and a large smile. "You won't be staying here for very long. You'll be staying with me." She smiled with anticipation, but faltered when he frowned.

"Staying with you? Shouldn't I stay here if I'm sick?" he asked.

"Well, you are sick, but it's nothing dangerous or contagious, so you can leave. Unless you want to stay here…."

"No, I don't!" he replied quickly, but again he frowned. "If I'm allowed to leave, then why can't I go home with mother and father?"

Hermione felt heat fan across her body. She should've expected the question, but she hadn't, and she wasn't sure what she should say. His mother was away, sure, but his father had died and he knew nothing about that. He was only six years old! How could she explain to a child that his father died a several years ago when he was eighteen? He doesn't remember being eighteen! He doesn't remember anything!

Hermione could feel perspiration build up on the back of her neck. She had to answer.

"Well… er… your parents are… away. They went on a trip," she half made up.

"They're on a trip," Draco repeated slowly. He seemed to be thinking of something, and then he spoke again. "They went on a trip without me." His face had fallen. His lighthearted demeanor slowly fell away and he looked down at his hands that were lying on top of his sheets. "They went on a trip without me while I was sick."

Hermione felt terrible as she looked at the heartbroken child in front of her. "Oh, Draco, it's not like that! They had very important business to take care of, and you only got sick after they left. They'll be back soon, and until they do you can stay with me." She tilted her head toward the boy, hoping he would understand what she was saying. He glanced up at her through his lashes and nodded. He smiled weakly. Hermione smiled in return.

"I just have to get a few things done and when I get back we can go to my house," Hermione told him. "Okay?"

"Okay," Draco replied quietly.

"Okay," Hermione confirmed, and then she left the room with a final smile at Draco. When she closed the door, she leaned back against it and sighed with relief. The encounter didn't go as bad as she expected it to go, but it didn't go as well as she hoped. She shook her head and stood up straight. She had plenty of time to make this arrangement go well. But right now she had to fill out some forms and call Harry.

Only when she had told Draco that he would be staying with her had she realized that she had no clothes suitable for a six year old boy, and she certainly didn't know how to shop for one. Reaching the fireplace, Hermione Flooed Harry and asked if it was possible for him to stop by Malfoy Manor and pack some of Draco's clothes for him. Harry assured her that he could get the clothes and shrink them to fit little Draco by the time she was ready to go.

"Oh, and Harry, could you bring some of his toys or books, too?" She had asked him. She figured that having some familiar objects around would help with the transition.

* * *

An hour later, Hermione was completing her last form when she heard a knock on her office door.

"Come in," she called, but it was pointless as Harry had come in on his own with a decent sized suitcase trailing behind him.

"Harry! Thank you so much!" she thanked him with a tired smile.

"No trouble at all." He dismissed her thanks with a wave of his hand. "I just knocked on the door, told the House Elf that answered what had happened, and they did the rest." Hermione gave him a stern look, but he didn't see as he picked up the suitcase, set it down heavily on top of her desk, and opened it.

On top of several stacks of clothing were a few children's books and four or five small toys. Amongst the toys was a larger stuffed animal: a faded green dragon that looked like it had been dragged through the mud one too many times. Removing the books from the suitcase, Hermione examined the stacks of clothing that the House Elves had chosen. She was disappointed to see nothing but emerald greens, blacks and charcoals throughout. She also noticed that his clothes were of very expensive make, far more expensive than any young child should wear. Hermione shook her head in confusion, but replaced the books and closed the suitcase anyway.

"Thanks again Harry. I was just about to get Draco so we can go home," she told him.

"Alright, I'd better get going too," Harry said, walking towards the door. "This mess set our case back, so we've been working overtime. And it hasn't been easy with one less member."

"We'll find a cure, Harry. We will."

"I know you will Hermione. If anyone can, it's you. Goodnight."

"Good luck."

Hermione stood up as Harry closed her office door behind him. She picked up Draco's suitcase, setting it on the ground for a moment to file her completed forms. Lifting the suitcase again, she grabbed her jacket and left her office. Making her way down the hallway, Hermione couldn't help the nerves building in her stomach. Bringing Malfoy home was the weirdest thing she would ever do. Especially since he was six years old and had no memory of their past as, essentially, enemies.

She reached his door and opened it, surprised to see him out of bed and looking around the room. He jumped when he heard her come in, but grew visibly aflutter when he saw his suitcase in her hand.

"Ready to go?"


End file.
